Breakdown republished
by sarcain
Summary: Sam and Dean's relationship starts to suffer as they continue to look for their father and hunt.
1. Chapter 1

Sam and Dean's relationship starts to suffer as they continue to look for their father and hunt. COMPLETED!  
Complete - Supernatural - Fiction Rated: T - English - Angst/Supernatural

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I want to apologize in advance for whatever monsters I use in this story. My imagination in that area is a little stunted. Try not to roll your eyes to much if I use the stereotypes a lot. I made sure to describe the 1967 Chevy Impala, as I love it! lol.

CHAPTER 1

"Sam, go!" Dean yelled out from the darkness. Sam hesitated for a minute, then ran towards his brother's voice. He could here scuffling somewhere off to the right and slowed down, probing the air in front of him with his arms extended. A thud sounded a few feet away and a groan sounded from the ground. "You never listen to me" Dean said from in front of Sam. The groans continued to come from Dean's feet. "Shut up" Dean sneered, kicking out before stepping over the inert goblin at his feet. He started walking past Sam towards the entrance of the cellar.

"Dean! Hold up. Not _everyone_ has the eyes of an owl like you" Sam said, making his way slowly to where Dean stood. Dean rolled his eyes and waited, his foot tapping the floor impatiently. He fidgeted as they made their way _slowly_ to the ladder hanging from an opening in the roof.

"Satisfied?" Dean snarked as they climbed out of the cellar. He quickly pulled the ladder out of the opening and slammed the door shut, locking it that way. The padlock he used was a large strong one but he still pushed a large heavy couch over the hatch as well. Sam's eyebrows rose.

"Not going a little overboard?" he asked with humor in his voice. Dean took his time to secure the couch over the hatch before turning. He stood up straight and gave Sam an incredulous look.

"That…_thing_ nearly pulled my arms out down there." He pointed down to the cellar. "So no, I don't think that I'm '_going a little overboard_'." He shook his head and gave Sam another look before stalking away. Sam sighed and looked around the room for a second. Then he followed his brother out of the old abandoned house, bending down to go under the condemned sign hanging across the door. The sun was just starting to rise and he had to narrow his eyes as the light hit them.

"Where next?" he called out the question to Dean who was at the trunk of his Impala. Dean riffled through some stuff before slamming it closed and turning to Sam.

"You tell me" he said impatiently. "I'm starting to get tired of picking all of our _fun little excursions_. You're so revved to find dad, so go ahead" He waved his arm towards his brother and then leaned on the trunk of the car, giving Sam an expectant look. Sam frowned and glared at Dean. "Well?" Dean said, his eyes widening exaggeratingly. He stood up and took a few steps closer. "You mean, it's not that easy?" he asked sarcastically. He snorted and walked to the driver seat and got in.

Sam swore under his breath and got in on the passenger side. The Impala jumped forward quickly, spitting gravel behind it.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

"You want to talk about it?" Sam asked quietly, half an hour later. Dean's grip on the wheel tightened for a second before he consciously relaxed again. He took a deep breath and turned to Sam with a smile on his face.

"Talk about what?" he asked with false cheeriness in his voice. Sam sighed. This wasn't going to be easy.

"About the way you bit my head off back there" Dean's grip clenched again, this time along with his jaw. He looked forward out of the windshield and didn't answer. Sam waited a minute before continuing. "Do you really think that I'm pushing too hard to find dad?" he asked incredulously. "Because I was under the impression that finding him was important to you to" Sam's voice had risen while he spoke. He was pissed now too.

Dean swerved the car to the side of the road, stopped and put it into park. He put his arm across the steering wheel and looked forward. He swore under his breath after a few seconds and turned to his brother.

"Of course finding Dad is important to me to" he said slowly. "I just wish you wouldn't act like I'm him" He finished quietly and got out of the car, leaving Sam gaping after him. Dean walked out in front of the Impala and sat on the hood. Sam followed.

"What do you mean, 'like I'm him'? I don't…"

"You _do_!" Dean interrupted, glancing to where Sam sat and standing up. He paced forward as he spoke to his brother, who had remained sitting. "What do you think it does to me when you ask questions that I can't answer?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck and he stopped pacing. "'What should we do? Where should we go? Will dad be there?'" he mimicked his brother's voice as he met his eyes. "I …DON'T…KNOW!" he yelled to the sky, raising his arms up as if threatening the gods. He turned, lowering his arms and covering his face with them. "I don't know" he whispered. Sam got up from his perch and walked to his brother, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Dean. I didn't mean to…" he started.

"I know" Dean interrupted wearily. He smiled at Sam reassuringly before walking back to the car. "Sorry about that" he said, in his usual cocky tone. "I must be hanging around my pussy brother too much" he snarked, opening the car door and getting in. Sam laughed and followed his brother. That was something he was getting used to. Following his brother.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

One month later…

"I don't do Canada" Dean said to Sam as they sat in a diner and ate breakfast. They were about fifty miles north of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, fresh off a hunt.

"What about Canada exactly, would stop us from going to a _paid_ investigation?" Sam asked, looking at his brother as if he had just sprouted horns.

"Well it isn't _Canada_, so much as it's the _people_" Dean answered with a smirk. Sam rolled his eyes and swore under his breath. "What?" Dean said, defensively.

"Have you ever even _been_ to Canada?" Sam asked him with exasperation.

"Yes, I've been to Canada" Dean answered silkily, sending a false smile his brother's way. "Too much French" he continued, looking down to his plate. Sam's eyes widened in understanding.

"Too much French or one particular French woman?" he asked Dean with a grin. Dean's head shot up quickly.

"Shut up" he said. Sam snickered. "That isn't shutting up" Dean said with a scowl. Sam burst out laughing.

"The chance of you bumping into this girl is s…" Sam began.

"No" Dean interrupted, putting his fork down and looking at his brother. "If it's in Montreal and its weird, then Justine will be there" he said, convinced.

"Justine huh?" Sam joked. Dean swore. "What happened?" Sam laughed.

"She couldn't take no for an answer" Dean said, his serious tone cutting off Sam's laugh. "That's over now. We'll head towards New York in hour" Dean got up and threw some bills onto the table. "Be ready" He walked out of the restaurant, leaving Sam alone.

"Are you finished sir?" The waitress had come up to the table as Dean had left. Her blond hair was caught in a pony tail and she smiled brightly at him. Sam smiled back at her. "Are you new here or just passing through?" she asked shyly, showing interest. Sam was about to answer, when he suddenly got a flash of her face framed by fire.

"Passing through" he said brusquely, taking out his wallet. The girls face fell and she pinkened. Sam squashed his guilt and paid his bill, leaving a big tip. He walked out quickly.

He couldn't date. As long as that _thing_ was still out there, he couldn't risk it.


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: People have asked me about New York, but they just passed through there on their way to Montreal. Sorry about the confusion.

CHAPTER 4

Canada. Damn, he didn't want to go to Canada. To Montreal. To her. Dean stared forward through the windshield. They had passed the border an hour ago and were getting closer to where he didn't want to go.

They where in Ontario now, but it wouldn't be long before the signs started being in French. Dean swallowed and looked over at his brother who was sleeping in his seat.

He could remember the pain that Sam had been in only months before. The sleepless nights and the haunted eyes had only gradually left him. Sam still had a one track mind though. Finding that_ thing_ and killing it.

Dean could understand the obsession. It had been his for a long time too. The monster had taken his mother when he was only a child. That wasn't something you just forgot. But when you lose sleep, you lose your edge. Without your edge you're open for some piece of shit to get you. Getting killed wasn't the way to avenge someone.

"Where are we?" Sam asked groggily, stretching in his seat. He had just woken up and felt sore in a lot of uncomfortable places.

"About 20 minutes from Montreal" Dean answered, not looking away from the road.

Sam blinked. He must have slept for a long time. He looked outside, but all he saw was highway and trees.

"If we're that close to the city than why are there so many trees?" he asked on a yawn. Dean laughed.

"Get used to the trees buddy. There's a lot of them" he snarked. "And we're about 20 minutes away form the _island _of Montreal. We're not going to be directly down town" he continued with a smile.

Sam shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. He failed.

"Can we stop somewhere?" he asked. Dean nodded

"I'll pull over soon. There's a place coming up that I like".

Sam looked at his brother in surprise.

"How long did you stay here?" he asked incredulously.

Dean didn't answer, but took an exit off the highway. Sam looked around, curious about his surroundings. Nothing looked too different then it was in the U.S.

Dean pulled in to a restaurant soon after the exit. They both got out of the Impala and went in.

"Bonjour" the hostess smiled at them. She was a cute one. Shoulder length black hair and dark eyes. She was wearing a black skirt and polo shirt that hugged her figure. Sam caught her eyeing his brother in interest and waited to see how he was going to talk up this one.

"Hi. Pour deux si vous plait" he said, barely smiling at the girl.

Sam's eyebrows shot up.

"French?" he asked quietly as they were shown to their table. Dean didn't answer.

"Merci" he said to the girl as she handed them menus. The girl took one more lingering look at Dean before walking away with a shrug.

Dean didn't bother reading the menu, but looked over at Sam.

"I recommend the poutine. I know that's what I'm getting" Dean said, pointedly ignoring his brother's inquiring look.

Sam sighed and opened the menu. It was completely in French. He threw it down on the table and laughed.

"Poutine it is" he said.

He was still chuckling as the waitress came back.

Dean spoke French to her and she walked away. It had been too fast for Sam to understand any of it. All he had noticed was the word poutine.


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: To everyone that doesn't speak, or even like, French, don't worry I don't either. But as I do live in Montreal I figured that I should throw in some reality. You won't get English service everywhere you go here. If there is any long conversation in French I willput it in between these (),the English translation that is. I don't know enough French to actually write it that much. lol. And I described poutine for those that are confused.

CHAPTER 5

"So where did the guy say to go?" Dean asked, polishing off the rest of his meal.

Sam looked up from his own plate with a sick look. He had just finished his HUGE poutine and felt like his stomach would explode. It had been good though. He hadn't really known what poutine was until the waitress had their plates over. French fries covered in gravy and cheese.

"Give me a minute" Sam wheezed, clutching his chest. "Christ! I can actually feel the heart attack waiting for me to take one more bite" he said. He gave Dean a respectful look. "Man, I don't know how you do it"

"Of course you don't" Dean smirked. "Only a real man could"

Sam laughed weakly as he pulled a piece of paper out of his jeans. It was crumpled and torn but it was still legible.

"It says somewhere in…uh…Dorval" he finished triumphantly, finally deciphering his own writing. "Do you know wh…"

"Yeah" Dean interrupted, biting out his words between clenched teeth. He slammed his fist down on the table and got up. The waitress walked up quickly and Dean settled the tab and left the restaurant. Sam thanked her on his way after him.

"What's up?" he asked, sitting in the passenger seat and looking at his brother. Dean was sitting and banging his head on the steering wheel.

"I should have asked before" he groaned out, banging his head once more than stopping. "_Of course_ its, it would almost have to be" he said, raising his head and speaking to the roof of the car.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked pointedly.

"Justine" Dean mumbled. "The address you have is for a house on a street called Lakeshore, right?" He laughed bitterly at Sam's nod. "That's where she lives. Her and her husband"

Dean turned the key in the ignition and drove off before Sam could think of anything to say. They sat in the car silently as they drove the thirty minutes to Dorval and the one woman that Dean had ever loved.

**SIDENOTE: OTHER THAN HIS MOTHER OF COURSE!**

The two brothers stood in front the house waiting for the door to be answered. Sam was watching Dean carefully, but saw no emotion on his face.

Dean worked hard to keep it that way.

The house wasn't a mansion _exactly_, but it was impressive. It had huge pillars across the front in a colonial style and the grass was nicely manicured. The steps and porch they were standing of looked like it was made of marble and the curtains at the windows were obviously heavy and expensive.

Sam was fully expecting a butler with a British accent to open the door. That was why his mouth dropped open when a woman answered instead. At least that's what he told himself.

She was gorgeous. She had long fire red hair that fell over her shoulders in thick straight waves. Her eyes were a smoky grey, surrounded by dark, long lashes. The brows over them were a little darker then her hair, but still red, proving her to be natural. Her face was all soft angles, giving the impression that you were looking at a faerie out of some Irish folktale. Her milk-white skin was accented by the black suit that she wore. The suit was cut to fit her body perfectly. It sculpted all her…assets nicely, while still being business-like.

Sam couldn't help but notice the sadness in those amazing eyes though. And the nervousness. Her hands were in fists at her side and she was standing poker straight.

"Dean" she whispered, her eyes glued to his face. Dean's face closed and he nodded shortly.

"Mrs. Galilean" he answered curtly. The woman flinched at his tone but squared her shoulders.

"Please, call me Justine or Ms. Edmonds" she said, leading them in and to the parlour. She continued after they were seated; Dean and Sam on the couch and her on a chair. "I changed my name back a few months ago" she explained.

"Henri must have loved that" Dean said sarcastically.

"I don't know" she answered calmly. "He's been dead for almost a year now"

"What?" Dean yelped, jumping up from his seat and going over to her. He kneeled in front of Justine and took a hold of her hands. "( Are you alright? What happened? )" he continued in French.

Sam took that as a cue and left them alone. He walked out into the hallway and inspected the paintings on the wall, moving far enough away for the sound of their voices to be muted.

"( I'm fine Dean )" she said with a sad smile on her face. She turned her hands over and squeezed his, looking down into his face fondly. "( It wasn't a surprise. He was in the hospital with cancer for a month before he went )"

"( A month? Why didn't you call me? )" he asked, gently chiding her with his eyes. He stood up and, still holding her hands, led her over to the couch. They sat down next to each other.

"( Would you have come? )" she asked. She let go of his hands then, wringing hers in her lap.

"( I only play the rejected suitor part so far Justine )" Dean said with a self-disgusted smile. He pushed his hand through his hair with a sigh before turning back to her. "( I would have tried to help any way that I could )" he asserted.

"( I wish I would have called then. I could tell Henri wanted to see you as well, but he…he understood my feelings )" she said with a regretful look on her face. "( You could have been there for both of us if I hadn't been sca… )"

"( Don't beat yourself up about it. I said some pretty bad things to you before I left )" he interrupted. "( I never regretted that more than I do now )" he ended in a whisper.

"( You're here now though )" Justine said, her face brightening. "( I thought that you wouldn't come. Though your brother seemed willing enough )" she laughed lightly.

"( Honest money isn't something he sees a lot of )" Dean smiled. "( He'll be disappointed when I tell him that we won't be getting paid )"

"( Oh, no Dean. I will pay for your expenses and… )" she said with an insistent look on her face.

"( No you won't )" Dean interrupted smoothly. "( Whatever it is that you got yourself into, we'll get you out of it; free of charge )" he said. "( What is it exactly that you wanted? )" he asked, putting on his serious face.

Justine laughed. She had always thought he was funny when he tried to look like a serious government type. It was the pout his mouth got into. That and the squint. She laughed again, holding her sides.

"( That is the first time I have really laughed in months )" she said, wiping her eyes. "Thank you" she said, switching back to English.

"Don't try to change the subject" he said, speaking in English as well. "What's the problem?"

"No problem really. At least not the way you think" she answered cryptically.

Dean nodded eagerly at her to get her to continue. His heart started to beat faster. She only stalled when it was something really good. She called it suspense. He called it a pain in the ass.

"Your father phoned me" she blurted out.

Dean's eyes widened and he stood up quickly.

"Sam, you should get back in here" he called out, keeping eye contact with Justine.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

"Are you sure?" Sam asked Justine seriously as they stood near the front entrance of her house. He wanted to make sure that they were going to the right place.

"Yes. Your father phoned and told me that when…Dean got here that he should go to the motel near Angringnon. That's where he would be staying" Justine answered, looking uncomfortable with how Sam's name hadn't been mentioned by his father.

"He didn't say anything else?" Sam continued, ignoring the shaft of pain that went through him at his father's omission.

Justine shook her head, looking helplessly at the tall man in front of her. He didn't look anything like his brother. She had noticed that right away. He didn't look like his father either. Maybe he took after his mother.

Sam thanked Justine for her help and joined his brother where he waited in the car. After hearing what Justine had said, Dean had kissed her quickly on the cheek in thanks and had gone out to the Impala. Sam had wanted to double check before rushing out, but now Dean was honking the horn with impatience.

"What took you so long?" Dean bit out as Sam got in and shut the door. Dean switched into gear and took off quickly.

"Do you know the place?" Sam said, knowing that Dean hadn't wanted an answer.

"Yeah, it won't take us too long" Dean answered eagerly, throwing a grin at his brother. They were finally going to find their father. They had been searching for almost six months now, and he had begun to lose hope that his father was out there alive.

As they got on the highway to the motel Sam looked at Dean questioningly. Dean noticed and returned the look.

"How would dad know to call Justine?" Sam asked.

"It would be hard for him _not_ to notice that I was in Montreal for five months" dean smirked. "He'd always find some reason to pop in and mooch food off of Justine. She's a hell of a cook"

"It isn't like dad to do anything but hunt or train" Sam said, surprised.

"I guess he made an exception when his son was gone for so lo…" Dean trailed off, coughing. They both knew that Sam had never been visited. "He…uh, always told everyone how you were in school and doing so well an…"

"Don't bother" Sam interrupted. "We both know that dad didn't understand me" He turned his head to look out of the window.

"That doesn't mean he wasn't proud of you" Dean said quietly. Sam glance at him, then kept looking out at the sky.

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

The Impala slid into the parking space with a large purr of its engine. Dean turned the key in the ignition and got out of the car. He and Sam walked into the building where rooms were rented. It was a small space with cheap chairs littering the floor. One small desk faced them. An old woman stood there looking at them expectantly.

Dean walked over and spoke to her in rapid French. Their conversation went on for a minute or two and Sam drifted back out of the doors. The place wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst either.

It was really two very long buildings parallel to each other; the kind of motel that is divided into rooms that open to a large parking area. The paint on the walls was a light blue and even though it was peeling in places, it lacked the graffiti that would make it rundown.

"Room 207" Dean said, coming out of the building and walking past Sam. They headed across the pavement to the other building. Stopping in front of the door marked '207' they stopped.

Dean took in a deep breath and smiled at Sam.

"Here we go" he said as he knocked.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

There was a noise from inside the room. Sam and Dean looked at each other in apprehension. Sam's eyes closed for a second in prayer as he heard the lock being undone.

Then the door opened.

The man who opened the door was wearing jeans and a sweater. The clothes bagged a little on his stocky frame. He was of medium height, with intelligent brown eyes coming from a prematurely weathered face. His hair was salt and pepper with more salt then pepper. He had a fresh scar on his clean shaven chin and a few others that were not so fresh. There were dark circles under his eyes that were new.

His eyes widened as he took in the two on his doorstep.

"Sam?" he blurted out. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Geez dad, nice to see you too" Dean said with a roll of his eyes as he clasped the older man in his arms. John Winchester paused in shock for a moment before returning the embrace.

Sam noticed, not for the first time, the similarity between the two. And not just in height or coloring. It was the look in their eyes that really connected them. They were hunters. In a way that Sam would never be.

John stood back and invited the other two in with a wave of his arm. Dean went in first, then Sam. As Sam walked past John, they made eye contact. John broke it first, making Sam frown. His father was _never_ the one to back down, what was going on?

The room was sparse. It had one double bed that was centered against one wall. There was a bureau on the opposite wall with a TV propped on top of it. A door just to the left of that led to the bathroom and the light escaping from the doorway was the only light in the room. Next to the window there was a small table with an empty ashtray and some books on it. There were only two chairs at the table. Dean walked over to the bed and sat, his hands resting on his knees.

"I just didn't expect you to bring Sam" John explained his reaction as he closed the door and locked it. "Shouldn't you be in school?" he continued, turning to Sam and looking up at him.

"Dean came for me when he couldn't find you" Sam answered briefly.

"_That_ I expected." John said ruefully, shaking his head and sitting on one of the chairs. "You actually going with him on the other hand…" he finished with a small humorless smile and lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

Sam flushed at the comment. They hadn't seen each other for more than an hour in the past four years. But this wasn't the first time that John Winchester let Sam know that he didn't understand his son.

Whatever phone calls that they had shared had been awkward and short, with neither of them making the effort to connect with the other. Sam had always been jealous of the easy bond that Dean shared with their father. He had always attributed it to the fact that Sam had been too young to remember his mother, or her death. He hadn't had those memories pushing him to hunt. But know he had his own.

"Jessica's dead" Sam said in a flat voice.

John flinched from the shock of it. He avoided Sam's eyes as he turned to Dean for answers.

"The same way as mom" Dean said before John had opened his mouth.

John's eyes closed tightly as his worst fears were realized. He scraped a hand over his face and groaned. Thoughts rushed through his head quickly as he tried to decide what he would tell them.

"We can commiserate _after_ you tell us what you know about this thing" Sam bit out with anger in his voice.

Dean stood up from where he was sitting and put his hands out palm up. There was a pacifying look on his face.

"Maybe we should all take a breath and relax" he said with a smile, suiting his words with action. He continued after exhaling. "First of all, where have you been?" he asked, turning to John with a questioning look.

"Here" John answered with a defeated tone. "After I couldn't stop the woman in white, I came here"

"Why couldn't you stop her?" Sam asked with a frown. "It was pretty basic…for you"

"That's what I told myself" John said with a self-depreciating chuckle. "But I still almost died"

"But she goes after guys who cheat…" Dean said as he looked at his father confusedly.

"Count on _her_ to realize that every time I've been with a woman in the last twenty-two years I … felt like I was betraying your mother" John answered softly.

"So, then you just came here and hid?" Sam asked incredulously. "Just because you couldn't stop one…"

"It wasn't the first" John interrupted. "No matter how hard I tried to keep sharp, I still…got old" he finished weakly. "I left because I needed to know that Dean could take over. Because _he_ needed to know he could"

"You _left_…so that I could _build up my confidence_?" Dean asked, his voice rising in anger. "Good thing I didn't just die instead" he snarked angrily.

"Dean" John said apologetically. "You know that I wouldn't have gone if I thought you couldn't handle it. And I was right"

"If it weren't for Sam I wou…" Dean started.

"You would be fine" Sam interrupted. "You always figure out a way to be fine"

Dean looked at his brother with a helpless look on his face. He then sat back down and looked down at his feet.

Everything was spinning out of control. He had known somewhere deep inside that his father hadn't wanted to be found before, but he hadn't thought it was because he was being tested. And because he passed he would have to continue alone. His father wasn't up to it and Sam was only along for the ride. He suddenly saw himself alone in his Impala, twenty years later, driving to another town and another hunt.

"I don't want to do this alone" Dean said quietly.

"You can stop whenever you want to" Sam answered, sitting next to his brother.

A harsh laugh escaped Dean as he shook his head. He looked up at Sam and their eyes met.

"I don't want to stop" Dean said before getting up and leaving the room. The door slammed behind him.

"I'll answer all your questions when Dean comes back" John said from where he sat. He started looking through the books on the table.

Sam's gaze moved from the door to John. It was only now that he noticed the weariness in the older man's eyes. He had lost weight since the last time that Sam had seen him. It wasn't too much, but it explained why his clothes were too big for him. John Winchester had always worn nicely fitted clothes. It was a trait that he had passed down to Dean.

"Have you been eating alright?" Sam asked. John glanced up from his books with a humorless grin on his face.

"Yeah, but I haven't really been able to keep muscle on" he joked. "Not one minute tooearly for retirement, am I?"


	8. Chapter 8

WARNING: I'm not sure about dates or ages, so I am estimating here. Do not use this info as fact.

CHAPTER 8

Dean didn't really know where he was going. He had stormed out of the motel room without a clear plan worked out in his head. That fact became obvious when he got to the car and just stood there.

"Jesus" he sighed as he used his left hand to ruffle his hair. Glancing around the parking lot, he realized that the only place he wanted to go was back into the motel room. Back to where his family was.

He turned swiftly and stalked back to the door marked 207.

"Okay then" Dean said as he came through the door. Both the other men looked up at him in surprise. "Time for the story dad" Dean continued with a smile.

John's eyebrows rose and he chuckled. "I knew that you were resilient, but this is…impressive. Even for you" he said turning in his seat to look at Dean fully. "I'm impressed son"

Dean rolled his eyes and went back to his seat on the bed; Once again next to Sam. He didn't bother saying anything, just looked expectantly at his father.

John sighed and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. "I'll start from the beginning then. Over twenty years ago…Sam witnessed his mother's death" Sam and Dean exchanged looks at how he had decided to describe the event; through Sam's eyes. He had never done that before. "And now…he has seen another death that is…that happened…_that is similar_" John had a hard time getting it out. He said the last three words deliberately.

"Yeah. We know that, but what about…" Sam said frustration written on his face.

"You know that huh?" John interrupted. "Do you also know that in all the years that I have searched for this…thing, I've never heard anything about it. Not until now. Not until you" There was silence when he finished. Both the young men sitting on the bed were frozen with shock.

Dean was the first to break out of it. "Are you trying to say that it's about Sam?" he asked John angrily, coming to his feet and giving John an incredulous look. "That's a load of crap"

"Dean. I have thought about this a lot and…"

"I don't care what you've done. You don't tell my brother that he…you don't say something like that to him" Dean cut off John's explanation.

Sam looked up at dean with surprise. This was the first time that he had ever heard his brother talk back to his father. He was touched that it would be over him. It was nice to know that in some things, Dean had his back.

"All I said was the truth" John retorted sharply, coming to his feet as well. The two men stood facing each other, both about to lose their temper. Seeing how similar their mannerisms were and added to that their physical resemblance, was like a lightning bulb for Sam.

"I don't fit" he said softly. His quiet voice sliced through the heated tension that surrounded the father and son. Both looked at him in question. Sam looked up with a dazed expression on his face. "I'm not a Winchester"

Spasms of pain reaped havoc on John's face. He groaned and fell back onto his chair, holding his face in his hands. Tears began to seep out of his eyes as Sam's words replayed in his head. His worst nightmare was coming true; Sam was learning the truth and rejecting John as his father.

"What the hell are you talking about Sam?" Dean asked, eyeing Sam darkly. He glanced at his father quickly when the older man's sobs reached his ears. "What is going on?"

"Ask dad" Sam said in a dead voice. "All I know is that I don't look like anyone in my family, not on my mother's side or…John's" Sam nearly choked on John's name. Not feeling like he had the right to call him father was killing him.

"N…" Dean shook his head in denial and swallowed back a lump in his throat. "Not everyone can be blessed with these looks" he said with a weak chuckle, trying to diffuse the situation with a joke. It didn't work. "Dad?" he said, a pleading note in his voice.

John rubbed his face and gulped in air as he looked at Dean. He held back his tears as he tore apart his family with the truth.

All three wished that they could go back to the lies.


	9. Chapter 9

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just a reminder, if the dialogue is in brackets, then you should think of it as French.

CHAPTER 10

Dean didn't think that anything would ever be the same again.

His brother wasn't really his brother. That wasn't something that you just got over to quick. And knowing how Sam had been conceived; it tore Dean up inside. His mother had been so good, and she hadn't deserved that; no one did.

Dean was sitting in his Impala, driving back to Dorval and Justine. He needed someone to talk to that would understand. Someone who wasn't his father.

He had tried to talk to Sam, but the younger man had walked off without saying anything. Dean had figured that he needed time alone and had left. He worried now that it had been a mistake to leave him.

If it was hard for Dean, then how hard was it for Sam? He had just learned that his father _wasn't_ his father; let alone the brother thing. Dean sighed and considered going back to find Sam. He changed his mind when he saw the exit to get to Justine's house.

When he rang the doorbell she opened the door quickly. It was almost as if she had been waiting for him. Suspicion had Dean's eyes narrowing. "My dad called you" It wasn't a question.

Justine sighed softly as she pulled him inside. "He was worried that I wouldn't be here" she said. She took his hand and led him back to the living room where they had spoken earlier that day. "(Now _I'm_ worried)" she said softly, switching to French.

Dean sat down on the sofa and lowered his head into his hands. The tears started to flow before he could stop them. The only time he ever cried was when it was about his family; and once because of Justine. He had never liked it.

Justine sat next to him and wrapped her arms around his hunched shoulders. She pulled him against her chest and rocked him as he cried. The only time she had ever seen him cry was when he had talked about his mother. She hadn't liked it.

Sam didn't know where he was.

He had started walking from the motel and had kept walking. He hadn't really planned on going anywhere, just wanted to leave that room. He had wanted to leave those people. The people he had thought of as his family his whole life.

But they weren't his family; not really. Dean was his half brother now, not full. His fa… John wasn't related to him at all. And his mother would be alive if it weren't for him.

Sam didn't realize that he was crying until he tasted his tears.

His mind replayed what happened over and over again. He could see Dean sit down with a thump when John had started talking. He remembered hearing John's voice trembling when it got to Sam. And more then anything he could still see the look on Dean's face when he found out who Sam's real father was.

That was what stuck out in his mind about that moment. He had just found out that he was…Sam gulped back a sob. All he could think about was that Dean wouldn't want Sam to go with him anymore.

Dean had tried to talk with him when they had left the motel room, but Sam had walked away. He hadn't wanted to look in his broth…_in Dean's_ eyes and see accusation and disgust. That would have killed him.

Justine gasped in shock when Dean told her the truth. It couldn't be true; not Sam. She had just met him and he seemed like such a nice man. He couldn't be…

"(Where is he now?)" Justine asked nervously. She didn't wasn't to believe it, but Dean and John were hardly ever wrong about these things. They wouldn't be so sure otherwise. And if it was true, then they had to make sure that Sam didn't do anything…bad.

"(He walked off after our…_my_ dad told us)" Dean answered.

Justine gave him an incredulous look. "(You just let him leave?)" How could they be so irresponsible?

Dean looked at her sharply. "(Don't talk about him like that. He is still my brother and I _know _him)" He said harshly. "(He would never hurt anyone)"

"(He already has Dean)" Justine entreated. "(He killed your mother and his girl…)"

"No!" Dean interrupted, shaking his head at her and switching back to English. "My dad doesn't know that. He can't be sure"

"Sam is the son of evil Dean. He was _made_ to hurt people. And no matter how much he tries to stop it, he _does_ hurt them" Justine said clearly, taking Dean by the shoulders and shaking him. She needed to make him understand.

"NO!" Dean yelled, pushing off the couch and glaring down at her. "It wasn't him!"

Sam decided to go back to the motel room. He thought that it was a good time to ask John why he hadn't been told before. Why he was allowed to be out in the world, hurting people. They should have stopped him before.

Now it was too late.


	10. Chapter 10

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow, even I was creeped out when I reread that "too late" line. It only gets creepier. All is explained.

CHAPTER 10

Dean left Justine's house quickly after she told him how worried she was about Sam. It was too hard for Dean to think of his brother as that kind of threat. And Sam _was his brother_, no matter what anyone said.

He drove a few kilometers over the speeding limit, but didn't push it too much. He knew that his Kansas plates would be practically begging for a cop to pull him over. He was going about 110 and it still didn't feel like it was fast enough.

The sky was getting darker and his anxiety grew. He wasn't sure why, but he knew that he needed to get to his dad quickly. He stepped on the gas and accelerated to 120.

Sam reached John's room and paused outside of the door. Part of him wanted to keep walking and not look back. But another part, a dark and powerful part, pushed him to open the door and go in.

The older man stood from his seat at the table when he saw who it was. There was a slightly nervous look on his face. Sam's fists clenched as he understood; John was afraid of him, afraid of what he might do.

"You look nervous, _John_" Sam said softly, moving only to shut the door behind him. He didn't move closer. "Why is that? You weren't scared before you told me"

John swallowed and clasped his hands behind his back. "A part of you is probably accepting the darker part of your personality; that lets some of the…evil out" john explained his worry.

Sam nodded his head slowly, a false look of sincerity on his face. "I suppose that's why you didn't tell me before then?"

Johan nodded his head.

"And after hearing about Jess…you figured I was half gone already, so _why not_?" Sam's voice had rose to a yell by the end of his question. The man he had thought of as his father had given up on him.

"I couldn't take the chance that you would hurt Dean next" John said sadly. "Based on your past actions, you only kill the people who are close to you"

"Close to me?" Sam asked, scoffing. "You and Dean are still alive aren't you?"

John pulled a hand through his short hair, cursing underneath his breath. "You were never that close to us" he muttered. "You argued with us all the time and ran off as soon as you could. We were never a threat to you"

"A threat? How would someone who is close to me be a threat?" Sam asked with exasperation in his voice.

"They would stop you from…changing" John said gently. "Your mother would have been a connection to goodness, just like Jessica was. So the part of you that came from…evil…it killed them. It's easier to go bad when you're all alone"

Sam looked at his father as if he had lost his mind. Changing? He didn't feel like anything had changed about him, not to evil, at least. He had been fighting evil for almost a year now, how could that be seen as bad? He asked his father that exact question.

The older man sighed and sat back down. "When you fight evil there is a certain taint that touches you. It grows the more that you fight, until it is like another skin. Most people can't handle that kind of skin; they are the people who ignore and deny the evil in their lives. It's the only way that they can deal" John paused and took a breath looking at Sam. "Then there are people like me and Dean. We can handle that skin and keep going…because of a motive that pushes us to keep going. Our motive has always been your mother's death"

Sam sucked in a breath as the truth of that sunk in. John and Dean had spent 22 years looking for the thing that had killed his mother; and now they had found it. Sam knew that no matter how much he argued with his father, in the end the truth would not be denied. He could feel the evil in himself now; it was simmering just underneath his skin, wanting out. It was trying to use his anger to do just that, but Sam had his temper under control and planned to keep it that way.

"But you…" John continued. "You're different than anyone else. The evil doesn't form a skin on you, it is absorbed. It has been building over the past months that you've been hunting; it's almost strong enough now to take over"

"How can you know that?" Sam asked desperately, wanting John to be wrong more than anything else in the world. "I could stop now and just…"

"Become a lawyer?" John asked ruefully. "Even that is like another evil that would build in you. Why do you think that it comes so naturally to you?"

"I wasn't going to be corrupt or anything" Sam denied.

"But you would have. Sooner or later, you would have" John said critically. "The evil must have recognized how much faster the change would happen if you went with Dean, and killed Jessica to make sure that you kept it up. And it has been, faster that is"

"You keep saying that, but how can you be sure?" Sam asked. He was desperate for any good news now. Everything that his father was saying made a twisted kind of sense.

"I can see it in your eyes. You fight to control your temper more now. And I'm guessing that you avoid any connection with women" At Sam's nod John continued. "A woman's love would pull you back, make the _real you_ be in control again"

"The real me?" Sam asked with a humorless chuckle. "So you think that the good is real and the evil isn't?"

"Yes" John said without hesitating. "That's why I wanted to give you a chance with Jessica; so that maybe she would be able to save you"

"And because of that _she is dead_!" Sam yelled, coming to his feat and hauling up John by his collar. "You let me stay out there, let me hurt her. I'll never forgive you for that; never" he yelled into the older man's face, feeling his grip on his temper slipping and not able to stop it. His hands went around the older man's neck and he lifted. A strange power was coursing through his body, giving him the strength he needed.

It felt amazing! The rush of knowing that he could punish John for what he had let happen was the most incredible feeling. Sam's heart rate increased until it felt like he had just ran a marathon. He squeezed his hands and watched John's face turn red. The sensation of the man's hands trying to pry Sam's fingers from his throat was hardly noticeable.

Dean was practically running as he jumped from his car and moved towards his father's room. The bad feeling that he had had before had grown until it had turned into an all-out panic.

He burst into the room and his heart stopped at what he saw.


	11. Chapter 11

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the second to last chapter, so brace yourselves, it's going to be a weird one; very whimsical and strange.

CHAPTER 11

Dean rushed into the room and knelt next his father's unmoving body. John was laying there with his eyes wide open, dead. Dean's breath whooshed out of him and he clutched his father to his chest.

"Dad" he cried out softly as he rocked in place. The shock of losing his father was like a building had landed on him. He had a sudden flashback of the night his mother had died; but this time his father wouldn't end up okay, and Sam wasn't there depending on him.

"Sam" the name came out of his lips as a whisper. He gently let his father go and stood up. He knew that it had been his brother that had killed John; it couldn't be anyone else. A sick feeling entered his chest when he realized what he would have to do.

If he wanted to do the right thing and save lives, he would have to kill his own brother.

A sob escaped from Dean as the thought entered his mind. He held his head in his hands and wept. What was he going to do?

--------------

Sam drove quickly, needing to get there as soon as he could. He had stolen a car from some guy at the motel. The French man had shouted at him when Sam had pulled him from his car. The shouting had been annoying, so Sam had stopped it.

Sam wasn't familiar with the area, but he knew exactly where to go. Just like he knew that his brother wasn't there anymore.

Perfect.

----------------

Dean searched the room frantically, not even knowing what he was looking for. All he knew was that his father always wrote down what he found out about paranormal activities; and if what he had found out about Sam wasn't in the journal that Dean already had, then it would be written somewhere else.

Dean was about to give up when he noticed something sticking out from under the bed. He didn't know what it was because the sheets of the bed half covered it, as if it had been thrown there haphazardly. "What he hell" he muttered and ripped the sheets up quickly to see what was there. His eyes widened when he saw the journal there. It was almost identical to the one that Dean had; the same make and color, and it was faded just like the other one. John had most likely owned it for just as long.

From where it had been lying on the floor Dean thought that Sam had already read it and had thrown it aside.

Dean cracked it open and started reading. The first sentence made his breath catch.

_If the son of evil is completely taken over by darkness, his powers will show themselves and make him invulnerable to any weapon but true love wielded by blood._

"Justine!" the name burst out of him as he hurriedly ran from the room and out to his car. Sam would be heading for Justine by now, and he would be trying to kill her. Justine loved Dean and that love could be used as a weapon against Sam; but only if Dean was there to do it.

Sam had heard something similar to that sentence before. His father had once told him a story when he was just a kid. It had been pretty messed up so he remembered it pretty well. It was that story that played over in his mind as he ran out to his car.

_**A long time ago, a great evil walked the earth, killing and torturing people for its amusement. This evil manifested itself in thebody of a man; A man who had been once been an honest and respected man in his village. **_

_**One day, after being visited by a strange man dressed completely in black, the man began to change. His temper began to grow unpredictable and the villagers became afraid of him. It went to a point where he killed his wife by burning her in a fire. After that, his only son shunned him. The man, being controlled by something he didn't understand, left the village.**_

_**Then he began his reign of terror. Many tried to stop him, but he was unscathed by their blades. After years of this, the man who had once occupied the body was almost completely gone. The evil the possessed it was frustrated becausepart of the other man was still there; kept there by the man's love for his son. The evil decided to go there and kill the son, to complete the hold that he had on the body.**_

_**But when the evil was just about to kill the son, the young man's wife stood. She wouldn't leave her husbandto die alone and pledged her undying love. The son, now emboldened by her words took up his small knife and stabbed the great evil. The evil laughed at first because it had thought itself invincible, but the knife found the body's heart and stopped it. The great evil died that day from the weapon of love wielded by blood.**_

Sam had heard the story right along with Dean and so he too knew what would happen if Justine lived. That was why Dean had to get to her as soon as possible.

Sam walked up the steps to Justine's house. He didn't bother to ring the doorbell; he just busted the door open with his foot. It opened easily, his added strength helping. He heard a muffled yelp come from upstairs and looked up at the ceiling, tracking the noise.

An evil smile crossed his mouth and he started up the steps.

Dean was almost there. He pushed the car as fast as it could go, swerving around other cars on the highway. The thought of what would happen to Justine if he was late, made his hands clench on the steering wheel.

He had loved her for a long time, almost since they had met. And he had known even then that she belonged to someone else. The memory replayed in his mind as he drove.

"_**This guy says that he has a violent poltergeist in his house, and he wants his **__girlfriend__** there with us when we get rid of it?" Dean asked his father incredulously. "Some boyfriend he is"**_

_**John laughed lightly at his son's quip. The older man was sitting in the passenger seat of Dean's prize possession, his Chevy Impala. They had just entered the island of Montreal and were on their way to Dorval.**_

_**Dean always drove.**_

"_**Apparently she thinks of herself as a paranormal investigator or something. He bought the house **__knowing__** that it was haunted, just so she could…"**_

"_**Investigate?" Dean interrupted with a smirk. The two men shared a laugh at the woman's foolishness. **_

Dean's laughter didn't last too long after he met her though. He had expected her to be beautiful; the boyfriend wouldn't go to so much trouble for a dog. He hadn't expected her to be intelligent though. And she had been, burning him with her dry humor more then a few times.

By the time that they had rid Henri Galilean's house of its nasty ghost he had fallen completely in love with her.

Both he and his father had been surprised at how knowledgeable she was. She had known how to take care of the poltergeist herself, but Henri had insisted that she have back up. But the Winchesters had noticed how she had kept herself together, even when things got messy.

The second surprise for Dean was how much he had liked Henri. The Frenchman had been a few years older then John, but he was in good shape. His attractive aristocratic looks and charm had helperd Dean understand why Justine would be with someone so much older then her. This was no sugar daddy kind of situation; they actually loved each other.

Dean would have preferred otherwise.

"_**So I guess that you'll be leaving now" Justine said quietly to Dean as they both sat on the steps leading up to the now ghost free house. John was inside talking with Henri and they were alone. They satapart looking up at the stars.**_

"_**No reason for us to stay" Dean answered even though it hadn't been a question. **_

"_**I could use the help" Justine said, not looking at Dean. He turned his head to study her profile. Justine glanced at him and continued. "I don't know as much as I want…and you could teach me" she explained.**_

_**Dean was silent for a moment. "My dad wouldn't be into that" he said finally. Dean would want to stay, but John wouldn't want to stop hunting. Maybe it was better this way; staying here and torturing himself wasn't what he thought of as fun.**_

_**But Justine continued. "He could go and…you could stay" she said, almost whispering. "Henri would pay you for your time" she added in a rush.**_

_**Dean took the time to decide what to do, turning again to look up at the sky. He had never been without his father on assignment before, teaching or not. And getting closer to both Justine and Henri would only make him feel worse.**_

"_**Sounds good to me" he answered anyway, knowing that he would do anything to spend more time with Justine.**_

And even after all the pain he had gone through because of that decision, he still didn't regret it.

Sam could hear Justine's breathing from behind the large desk in the room. He had heard her breathing from all the way downstairs, andhad followed it to the plush study upstairs. He looked around the room and admired the dark wood that made up almost every surface. The overall scheme of the room was 'log cabin' and he got a kick out of it.

"Come out come out wherever you are" he called out playfully as he crept around the desk silently and looked down at Justine kneeling there. Her red was half covering her face and spilling over her shoulders, it made Sam's mouth water. He had fond her attractive before, but hadn't done anything about it. Now he would do what he wanted.

Justine's head rose slowly as she looked up at him from her crouch. Sam could see the fear in her eyes and a thrill of lust went through him; nothing like terror as an aphrodisiac.


	12. Chapter 12

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This will be the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed my fic, and thanx for reading up until now.

CHAPTER 12

Dean ran up the steps when he got to Justine's house. It was silent; too silent. It made Dean run faster. There had been a strange car parked in the front and Dean had a bad feeling that Sam had been there for a while.

His feeling was strengthened when he got to the door and found it already opened. The door had been kicked in and the sides splintered. It had swung shut on its own and the damage hadn't been noticeable until you got close.

Dean started searching the downstairs for any sign of them when he heard a muffled thump from upstairs. He pivoted on is heel and moved back towards the stairs calling out Justine's name. His brother would already now that Dean was there anyway, so it wasn't like he was blowing the element of surprise.

He heard another thump from Henri's study and ran down the hall to reach the room. When Dean got there, his breath whooshed out of him in despair; he had gotten there too late.

"I've been expecting you, _brother_" Sam said wickedly from across the room. His clothes were spattered with Justine's blood and Dean had to stop himself from jumping for the taller man's throat. "Such naughty thoughts" Sam tsked at Dean playfully, shaking his finger.

Dean gritted his teeth. "What did you do to her?" he asked harshly.

Sam laughed. "I think that you know the answer to that question already Dean" he answered, in the same light tone. "You and I both know that I was never going to let her talk"

"The blood…" Dean started.

"Don't worry about that" Sam dismissed the problem. "I'm not going to let a fine piece of ass like that die before I have a go at her"

Dean saw red. He lunged at Sam but was thrown back against the wall. His head smacked into the plaster hard and he saw stars. He knew that his legs wouldn't have held him up, but he wasn't on the ground. Dean opened his eyes and looked down. His feet weren't touching the ground.

"Cool trick, huh?" Sam asked in an excited voice. "You can't even touch me now. Not with your…_love_ not having the use of her vocal cords" he laughed again. "Lucky for me that she never did get a chance to tell you how she felt"

Dean looked helplessly at Justine as tears welled up in his eyes. She was sitting up against the far wall clutching at her throat. It was obvious that Sam had slashed her voice box, stopping her from telling Dean that she loved him.

Her eyes spoke eloquently though. Dean's heart felt like it was bleeding as he shared the look. "I'm sorry" he whispered to her. Tears spilled over her own face as she heard him.

Sam glanced at Justine in feigned shock. "No answer?" he asked. "She's not very nice to you Dean" he continued, turning back to his brother. Sam walked forward until they were only inches apart.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked Sam silently. He was stalling or time so he could think of something.

"Kill you, rape her…then kill her too" Sam answered nonchalantly, ticking off each thing with a finger as if with a grocery list.

Dean's eyes clenched shut at the words. He didn't want to think of what the evil in Sam would do to Justine after it killed him. He remembered the story; torture is what this…_thing_ liked.

"This is no fun though" Dean said, his eyes still closed. "Do you really want to kill me so quickly? You could have us fight instead"

He could hear Sam chuckle. "Good idea brother" he said softly. Dean felt the unseen pressure go away and he slid down the wall until his feet hit ground. He wobbled, but managed to stay standing.

Sam stepped back and stood there with his arm splayed out wide. "Take your best shot big brother" he said on a chuckle. "Then I'll take mine" his voice turned dark with its lust for blood.

Dean searched his pocket for the knife that he had put there earlier. It was small, but it would do the trick; or at least it would have if Justine would be able to speak. He clutched it in his hand and faced his brother.

Dean looked a Justine once more before he made his move. He would die now and he wanted to see her face first. He noticed that her hand had been moving in the pool of blood near her side.

She had written something with her fingers there: I LOVE YOU.

Dean's heart welled up. He didn't think that it would work that way, but he was just happy to know how she felt for sure. "I love you Justine" he cried out as he thrust the knife into Sam's chest.

Sam laughed and just stood there. "Now it's my tur…" His words were interrupted as a burst of light exploded from where the knife had entered Sam's chest. Dean fell back covering his eyes. The light grew stronger until it took over Sam's whole body. Then it disappeared.

Dean's eyes took a minute to readjust to the normal light. But when it did he looked down at his brother. Sam was lying on the ground in a heap, unmoving. Dean's heart was in his throat as he edged closer.

Sam's eyes were open and staring out into space; they were completely lifeless. Dean cried out as sobs began to work through his body. He fell to his knees at his brother's side and pulled the Sam into his arms, rocking him in the same way he had his father.

He felt Justine move behind him but didn't stop holding Sam. Dean knew that he needed to let go and get her to the hospital, but he just couldn't. He had always taken care of his brother…and now he had killed him.

He didn't know how long it was before he laid his brother back down on the ground. It must not have been too long, because Justine was still there, holding her throat. The amount of blood on her shirt hadn't increased so much that it would kill her; yet.

That thought galvanized him and he stood up, moving to the phone and dialing 911. Dean got an ambulance on its way before he turned back to Justine. She had stood too and they stared at each other for a minute without moving.

"Justine" he whispered desperately, moving to her and holding her in his arms. He felt her shake as sobs made themselves silently out of her. Holding her served the double purpose of calming her and comforting himself. It helped ease the guilt of what he had done to his brother when he thought of what he had saved Justine from.

-----------------

Dean sat in the waiting room of the ER as Justine got operated on. He had just finished being questioned by the police about what had happened at the house and he was exhausted.

Emotionally, if not physically, this had been the worst day of his life. The last two members of his family were now dead and he was all alone. His nightmare would become reality and he would spend the rest of his life wandering around in his Impala, trying to hunt down the things that went bump in the night.

Dean didn't even want to think about Justine. His presence had put her in danger for the last time; he would leave when he knew that she was ok.

"Mr. Winchester?" a doctor asked him as she walked up. "Ms. Edmonds has asked for you"

"_Asked_ for me?" Dean said, confused.

The doctor smiled in understanding. "She wrote it down for us" she explained softly.

Dean was amazed that so soon after her surgery she would be _able_ to write anything. Then he smiled; if anyone would be that resilient it would be her. Dean suddenly knew that she would bounce back from this faster than anyone would expect.

----------------

Dean finished packing his stuff into the trunk and slammed it shut. The lock on it was tricky, so being gentle wasn't really on option with part of the car. He still grimaced though; he liked everything that was done to his car to be gentle.

He sighed as he breathed in the crisp Montreal air. It was getting colder outside now that autumn was half gone. Dean was just glad that he was getting out of Canada before the full on winter hit. The salt would be hell on the Impala's paint.

He took one last look at the house that had brought him together with Justine, and then turned away. He got into the driver's seat and started the engine up. The small explosion of the car revving put a smile on Dean's face as he pulled onto the road.

It wasn't until they were on the bridge off the island before the silence was broken.

"Where next?" Justine asked from the passenger seat.

Dean smiled and pushed the car faster.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wanted to end happy so I cut out all the depressing grief stuff and just got to the end. I don't think that Dean is the kind of person to dwell on that kind of stuff anyway. I hope you were happy that I sent Justine with Dean; it was breaking my heart for him to be alone.


End file.
